by Enid Blyton
‘Yes, something that we could remember and talk about for weeks and weeks,’ said Whiskers. ‘But nothing ever happens to pet rabbits. They just live in a cage and eat and sleep. That’s all.’
But one night something did happen! Flop and Whiskers heard a noise in the garden, and looked out of their cage. It was bright moonlight and coming down the garden path was a long procession of fairies. In their midst was a snow-white carriage with gold handles and gold wheels. It was drawn by six coal-black rabbits.
‘Just look at that!’ cried Flop, excitedly. ‘It must be a fairy princess of some kind. Oh, don’t I wish I was one of those rabbits pulling her carriage! Wouldn’t I feel grand!’
‘Isn’t it beautiful?’ said Whiskers, his little nose pressed against the wires of the cage.
The procession came down the path and passed by the rabbits’ cage. They were so excited. They could see a golden-haired princess in the snow-white carriage and just as she passed their cage she leaned out and blew a kiss to them. Flop scraped at the wire of the cage, trying her hardest to get out and run after the procession – but it was no use, the wire was too strong.
‘Look!’ suddenly cried Whiskers. ‘The procession has stopped. What has happened?’
‘One of the coal-black rabbits has gone lame,’ said Flop. ‘See, its foot is limping.’
What a to-do there was! All the fairies gathered round the limping rabbit, who shook his head dolefully and held up his foot in pain.
The princess leaned out of her carriage and pointed to the rabbit-hutch she had just passed. She called out something in her high little voice.
‘I say, Flop, I believe the princess is saying that one of us could draw her carriage instead of the lame rabbit!’ said Whiskers, in excitement. ‘Oh, I wonder which of us will be chosen.’
The little fairies came running back to the cage and climbed up to the wire.
‘Will you come and draw our princess’s carriage just for tonight?’ they cried. ‘One of our rabbits has hurt its foot.’
‘Oh yes!’ squeaked the two white rabbits in delight. ‘But which of us do you want?’
‘Both of you, please,’ said the fairies. ‘You see, the rabbits have to go in pairs, and we couldn’t make one of the pairs a black rabbit and a white one. We shall set free the hurt rabbit and his companion, so that we can have two white rabbits instead. So will you both come? You shall be brought back before sunrise.’
Flop and Whiskers joyfully told the fairies how to open their cage and then they jumped out in delight. In a trice they were harnessed with the other rabbits, and the two black ones, whose place they were taking, hopped away into the hedges. The fairies cried out in delight to see the two beautiful white rabbits among the coal-black ones.
They made such a noise that they woke up Malcolm and Jean. The children jumped out of bed and went to their bedroom window, looking out into the moonlight.
They saw the fairy procession going along down the garden path and they stared in astonishment.
‘Jean!’ said Malcolm, ‘look at those two white rabbits with black tails, drawing the carriage along with the four black rabbits. Don’t they look like Flop and Whiskers?’
‘Yes, they do,’ said Jean. ‘And oh, look! Malcolm, their cage door is open. I can see it quite plainly in the moonlight.’
The children ran downstairs to see the procession, but it had passed by before they were in the garden. So they went to see if the rabbit-cage was open – and it was.
‘Oh dear, I shall be sorry not to have dear old Flop and Whiskers,’ said Jean, almost crying. ‘They were so sweet. I don’t think it was very kind, of the fairies to take them away from us.’
But the next morning the cage door was fast shut and the two white rabbits were safely back in their hutch once more! When Malcolm and Jean went to peep, they found both rabbits fast asleep in the hay, and they didn’t even wake when the children put some fresh lettuce in for them.
‘Goodness, aren’t they tired!’ said Jean. ‘I expect they walked for miles last night, dragging that lovely carriage behind them. I do wonder where they went.’
Where did they go? Well, they went to a party! The Prince of Derry-Down Palace was just twenty-one and he had sent out invitations to his birthday party – and, of course, the golden-haired princess had one of the beautiful invitation cards too.
Her name was Fenella, and she loved parties. She had only just grown up, so she hadn’t been to many big parties. She had a new dress and new silver shoes made, and she looked very lovely in them.
‘I will lend you my second-best coach, the white one with gold wheels,’ said her father, the King. ‘And you shall have either my six well-matched coal-black rabbits to draw it, or my six white cats with pink eyes.’
The princess chose the rabbits, and they were the very ones that the two children had seen in the night. The two white rabbits, Flop and Whiskers, watched the two black ones whose place they took, run into the hedge, and then off they went with the other four.
‘I hope we keep up all right,’ panted Flop. ‘We aren’t very used to galloping, we’ve been so used to sitting in our cage.’
But they galloped along just as fast as the black rabbits, and the princess was very pleased. ‘They shall go to the Rabbits’ Party,’ she said to the fairies with her. ‘They deserve it.’
The Prince was giving a party for his friends and the rabbits he sometimes rode were giving a party for the six rabbits who drew the princess’s coach – so you can imagine the delight of Flop and Whiskers when four fine rabbits, with bows round their necks, made them welcome to their own little party in the grounds of the palace!
They were given blue bows to wear, and sat down at little tables with dishes of delicious looking food.
‘Look, Flop,’ said Whiskers. ‘Carrot Sandwiches!’
‘And see – that’s Cabbage Pie!’ said Flop. ‘And here’s Turnip Cake. And what’s this – Lettuce Biscuits! What a wonderful meal!’
It certainly was – and afterwards the ten rabbits had a little dance of their own. Flop and Whiskers were very sorry when it was all over. They pulled the princess’s carriage home for her – and then they ran back to their cage and curled up to go to sleep, tired out!
Flop and Whiskers longed to tell the children all about their adventures, but they couldn’t. When they woke up they looked at one another in delight, and Flop said: ‘Did we dream it, Whiskers, or was it true?’
‘Quite true,’ said Whiskers. ‘We’ve had an adventure at last, Flop. We can talk about it for weeks and weeks, and we’ll never feel dull again.’
So they talk about it all day long – and I wish I could listen to them, don’t you?
Peter’s Horrid Afternoon
Peter wanted a bicycle. He wanted one very badly indeed, so badly that he made up his mind to be a very good, kind, unselfish boy for weeks. Then he hoped that his mother would buy him a bicycle.
It wasn’t very difficult for Peter to be kind and unselfish, for he was a good-hearted boy and always willing to do a good turn for anyone. His mother didn’t really notice very much difference, for Peter was always good to her. But Peter was hoping and hoping that she would notice how hard he was trying to be good so that she would give him a reward.
One day, after he had been trying hard for about four weeks, he asked his mother a question.
‘Do you think I deserve a bicycle, Mother?’ he asked.
‘Deserve a bicycle!’ said his mother in surprise. ‘What for?’
‘Well, haven’t I been good as can be all these weeks?’ said Peter. ‘I thought you would be sure to notice. Didn’t you?’
‘Well, no, I didn’t,’ said his mother. She was just about to say that Peter was always a kind-hearted boy, but he didn’t give her time. He went very red and looked quite cross and upset.
‘Well, really, Mother!’ he said, ‘I don’t see any use in my trying so hard if nobody is going to notice. You did once say that if I were a very specially good b
oy you might think of buying me a bicycle, and now I expect you’ve forgotten all about it! It’s no use being kind! It’s no use being good! I just won’t be any more!’
Peter’s mother was so astonished that she couldn’t say a word. Peter walked out of the room and went into the garden. He felt very cross and disappointed. It was too bad to have tried so hard for so long and then to be told that his mother hadn’t even noticed he was any better. He didn’t guess it was because he was always such a kindly boy that his mother hadn’t noticed anything different about him.
‘I’ll go for a walk all by myself,’ thought Peter, half-sulky with his disappointment. ‘I’ll go up on the common, past the police-station and down by the sweet-shop. And I won’t do a kind deed to anyone, and I won’t smile or say good afternoon. I’ll just be simply horrid and see if anyone notices that!’
So, much to everyone’s surprise, Peter went frowning through the village and didn’t raise his cap to anyone or say good afternoon. He saw old Mrs Harrison coming and because he didn’t want to shake hands with her and be his usual kind self he turned his back on her and pretended to read a notice outside the police-station.
It was quite an interesting notice, all about a robbery that had taken place in a big house not far away. Peter read about the things that had been stolen, and at the end it said that it was believed that the thieves had hidden the stolen things somewhere, and anyone finding them must report to the police.
‘I wish I could find them!’ thought Peter. ‘It would be exciting. I’d like that. I’ll look under the bushes on the common as I pass them. You never know what might happen!’
So he went on his way feeling a little happier. But when he passed Harry Brown, waving a brand-new kite to show him, he remembered that he was being horrid that afternoon and he scowled and looked away. Harry was so surprised.
He was soon up on the common. A little girl threw a ball near to him and asked him to throw it back – but Peter took no notice at all and stalked on, his hands in his pockets. He WAS NOT going to be kind. It didn’t pay. Nobody noticed. He might as well be horrid! Wasn’t he being silly?
He passed by some goats and a little goat kid tied to a post. The rope had got wound round one of its legs and Peter saw it. He was just going to run over and free it when he remembered that he was being horrid. No, he must leave the kid as it was. On he went, scowling all round, looking under the bushes as he passed. But there was no sack of stolen things anywhere. Only dead leaves lay under the bushes.
Then he suddenly heard the sound of someone crying. He looked about and saw Pam, a little girl he knew. She was weeping bitterly, and when she saw him she ran to him.
‘Oh, Peter, Peter!’ she cried. ‘Will you help me? I’ve dropped my doll down this big hole here, and I can’t get it back.’
Peter badly wanted to help her, but he remembered that he was being horrid.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘I’m not doing any kind deeds today. I can’t get your doll.’
‘Oh, Peter, please, please do!’ sobbed Pam. ‘I do want her so. I can’t leave her there. I’ll have to climb down myself and I’m afraid.’
Peter looked at the little girl and then he suddenly thought it was a nasty thing to be horrid to people. He didn’t care whether he had a reward or not – he was going to be good and kind whatever happened! He wanted to be. It didn’t matter if he had a bicycle or anything else for being good – he could be kindly without that. How could he let Pam climb down that big crack in the earth and get her doll? She might break her leg!
He went to the hole where she said her doll had fallen. There was a great crack in the common just there and a large and jagged hole ran down into the earth. Bushes grew here and there in the crack, which was steep and dangerous. But Peter wanted to help Pam so he began to climb down.
He could see the doll’s blue dress not very far down and he soon reached it – and then, just as he was about to climb up again, he caught sight of something else poked into a hole nearby. It looked like an old sack! Peter pulled at it and it came away from its hiding-place. He slid down a little further and opened the sack. Inside were all the things that had been stolen by the thieves when they had robbed the big house!
Peter felt so excited that he could hardly speak. At last he found his tongue. ‘Pam!’ he cried. ‘Isn’t it exciting! I believe I’ve found all the things those robbers stole the other night! Quick! We’ll go and tell the police where they are. The sack is too heavy for me to pull up.’
He climbed out of the crack and he and Pam set off as fast as they could run to the police-station. They told a policeman what they had found, and very soon all three were going back to the hole again – and sure enough the sack of stolen goods was there! The policeman was pleased, and took it away on his back. Pam was excited too, and as for Peter, he could hardly go home fast enough, he was so eager to tell his mother all about it.
All the stolen goods were sent back to the owner, and when he heard who had found them, he called at Peter’s house to give him a reward.
‘I offered five pounds to anyone who could tell me where my goods were hidden by the thieves,’ he said to Peter’s mother. ‘Would Peter like the money, do you think, or would he rather have a present?’
‘He is at school just now,’ said his mother, ‘but if you would like to give him a present, I know what he would like – a bicycle!’
‘He shall have one!’ said the man at once. ‘I’ll buy him one today.’ And that afternoon what should Peter see waiting for him in the garden but the brightest, newest, finest bicycle he had ever imagined! He was simply delighted. Then he went rather red and looked at his mother.
‘You know, Mother,’ he said, ‘I was being very silly and horrid that afternoon. I just wouldn’t be kind or polite to anyone – but when I saw Pam so miserable I had to help her – and that’s how I found the stolen goods.’
‘Ah, Peter, you see you were rewarded for your kindness after all,’ said his mother smiling. ‘It is always best to be kind, for somehow and some time kindness brings its own reward – though you don’t need to think about that. Now go and ride your bicycle.’
‘I shall give Pam the first ride!’ said Peter. ‘If she hadn’t dropped her doll down that hole I would never have found the sack! So she deserves the first ride!’
Off he went – and isn’t he proud of that bright new bicycle! I would be too, wouldn’t you?
The Palace of Bricks
Donald and Mary had a big box of bricks between them. The bricks were all colours, and there were so many that the two children could build really big houses, castles and palaces.
One sunny day Mummy said they could take their bricks out into the garden and build there. She gave them a big flat piece of cardboard to build on, and Mary carried that out, whilst Donald took the box of bricks.
‘Let’s build a palace today,’ said Donald. ‘We’ve got all afternoon to build it. There’s a fine palace in the book that goes with the bricks – look! It shows you just what bricks to use, and how to make the towers and pinnacles on top of the palace.’
So they began. It was very difficult, but perfectly lovely to do. They had to find all the right bricks, and put them in just the right places. The palace began to grow and when Mummy came out to look, she thought it was grand!
‘It’s fit for a Princess,’ she said. ‘It really is.’
They finished it just after tea. It stood out there in the garden, with all its little towers rising gracefully, the prettiest palace you would imagine!
Just as they had finished it Mummy called them.
‘Donald! Mary! Here is Peter come to ask you to go and try his new see-saw!’
Donald and Mary left their palace of bricks and rushed to the front garden, where Peter stood waiting.
‘Are you coming?’ he asked. ‘I’ve made a fine new see-saw out of a tree-trunk and a big plank.’
Off they all rushed and that was the last that Donald and Mary remembered of their p
alace before they went to bed that night! They had a fine time with Peter’s see-saw and got back home so late that Mummy bundled them into bed at once. And nobody thought of the bricks left out-of-doors!
Now it began to rain heavily after the children were in bed, but they were asleep and didn’t know. Outside in the darkness the palace of bricks stood, getting wetter and wetter. Soon, down the garden there shone many little lanterns, and the sound of high voices could be heard. The little sparrows roosting in the trees heard them and whispered to one another: ‘It’s the pixie-folk! They were going to have a party tonight! What a pity the rain will spoil it!’
It did spoil the party! The pixies were terribly upset, especially as it was a birthday party for the little Princess Peronel.
‘Whatever shall we do?’ they cried, as they swung their lanterns here and there. ‘The grass is much too wet to dance on, and all our cakes and jellies will be spoilt!’
‘What’s this?’ suddenly cried a small pixie in yellow, running up to the palace of bricks. ‘I say! Look at this! It’s a beautiful palace! Why, it’s just the thing to have the party in!’
All the pixies crowded round to see the palace. They were delighted with it. They ran inside the door and looked round the big rooms.
‘They’re quite dry!’ they cried. ‘The palace has a fine roof, and not a drop of rain is leaking through! Those children must have built it. Let’s use it for our party!’
‘Let’s!’ cried the Princess Peronel, peeping in too. ‘I’d love to have a party here. Fetch the tables and the stools, and we’ll soon have a fine time!’
It wasn’t long before the palace was hung with shining lanterns, and set with little golden tables and stools. On the tables were all kinds of cakes, jellies and trifles, with little blue jugs of honey-lemonade to drink. The cardboard floor was soon polished up and the band took their places to play merry dance-tunes.
